


Inktober 2016

by sugarlump



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fallout, Angst, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, SuperBat, Underage Drinking, bart gets super drunk, cute dads being cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarlump/pseuds/sugarlump
Summary: I gave an Inktober list I made to my friend dippkip, and on day 6 I decided what the heck, I'll do it too. Day 1: Propose.





	1. Propose (Tim/Kon)

**Author's Note:**

> Daily prompts for Inktober 2016. Tags will be added as chapters are.

Bruce had seen this before. He studied the alien in front of him—well, _half_ alien, anyway—and knew without a doubt what was coming.

“Mr. Wayne—” Kon tried to start, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, before he was cut off by a raise of Bruce’s hand.

“Connor,” Bruce started, and he’d never seen the boy flinch so hard in his life. “How long have we known each other? It’s Bruce.”

Kon looked up, with all the hope and wonder of a child—well, let’s face it, Kon still _was_ a child, really—and nodded.

“O-Okay,” He sputtered, beginning to grin, and almost, _almost_ relaxing. Progress. “Thank you. Sorry, I, um. Well—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bruce chuckled, now supremely amused, and Kon blushed hard. “It’s alright. Just talk to me, Connor. Like always.”

Kon nodded again, taking a breath. Bruce gestured to the couches of one of the Manor’s extravagant sitting rooms, and Kon made his way over to the velvet cushions like a rusted robot, stiff in every joint, and plopped down, immediately reaching to grip a pillow.

Bruce sat across from him, on a single sofa chair and crossed his legs. He might have accidentally looked intimidating, because Kon’s shoulders tensed further.

“So, Bruce, I. I asked to meet with you because,” Kon started, veering off towards the end. He looked everywhere but at Bruce, but some realization clicked in his mind and he hastily tried to meet Bruce’s gaze, as if he remembered that’s what respectable people did.

As if he’d been practicing.

A few years ago, Bruce would have been annoyed with such a display, especially considering this boy’s purpose for being here at all. But after everything, after seeing his kids grow up and meeting the love of his life, Bruce might have gone a little soft, as Jason would say.

But Bruce, now, was just _amused_ , lazily smiling at the boy as the other struggled to get out complete sentences. Maybe it was a little mean on his part to be so amused with the other’s struggles, but Bruce figured it was a better reaction then the blood-curdling fear he would have struck a few years ago.

“ _Because_ ,” Kon continued, though barely, tiny drops of sweat forming on his temple. “because I have something, something very _important_ to ask of you—from you—to _you_ , you.”

Another breath. “Tim and I have been together for a while now,” He began, Bruce noticing the slightest tension melting away at the mention of Bruce’s son. “Four years, this August. He’s—he’s everything to me, Bruce. He got me out of that pod, he showed me what it was to _live_. _Really_ live.”

The words flowed better now. Kon was on a roll. Bruce looked on eagerly, though didn’t show it, using every bit of his natural composure to do so. Kon continued, his hands moving away from the cushions to his lap, held together now.

“I love him, Bruce. So much. You… you know this.”

Bruce straightened, because Kon was now looking him square in the eye.

“And I. I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s been there for _literally_ all of it.”

Bruce nodded, wanting to give Kon some reaction he was following. The Kryptonian nodded back, his eyes fierce and passionate, his body tensed in a new way, as if bracing for an attack he would never let shake him.

“I would like your blessing to marry him.” Kon said, then faltered as he remembered to add: “Please.”

Yeah, Bruce had seen this before. Kon’s nervousness, his fiddling, his _obvious_ practicing—it’s just how Clark had proposed to him years ago.


	2. Monster (Dick/Babs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily prompts for Inktober 2016. Tags will be added as chapters are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the Fallout universe, specifically Fallout 4. Currently working on a separate story for this au, so enjoy this for now!
> 
> Day 2: Monster.

“Line up the shot.”

Dick hated using sniper rifles. He hated using any gun, really. He much preferred hand-to-hand or some melee weapon, something he could use for stealth, sneak up on his opponent, and run around with ease. Snipers, Dick found, were very hard to carry while jumping from building to building.

Dick also hated that he was given this job, while Jason sat cushy back at the Manor. Granted, the other had a broken leg, but that was beside the point. Jason always did these kinds of jobs, because he didn’t mind killing, and took way too much pleasure in holding a gun.

Adjusting his place on the ground, Dick sighed, irritated, feeling the rocks and thorns of Boston Wasteland terrain digging up through his uniform to his belly and chest. He positioned the rifle on a boulder, looking down through the scope, one hand bracing the rifle while the other held close to the trigger.

Through the scope, his target was easily in view. The Yao Guai waddled over the dilapidated road, huffing at a leaf that blew over her nose. The radiation and FEV had stripped her of most of her fur, and her skin was a sickening red-purple, with veins popping out and sores all over her body.

Dick’s finger twitched over the trigger. He was far enough away that he could get in several shots before she reached him, if she noticed him at all. He moved away from the scope, regarding the creature as she pawed at some stripped bones.

“Babs,” Dick said into his com, leaning his chin on his hand. “This feels wrong.”

“Dick, just line up the shot,” Barbara sighed. He knew she just wanted him home already, knew how she secretly worried every time he went out into the Wasteland. Which was adorable, and Dick _loved_ that about her. “Tonight’s date night.”

“Aw, come on.” Dick smiled a little. “Just hear me out.”

She grumbled and shifted in her chair. “Why does it feel wrong, Dick? Is this a pseudo-Bruce thing you’re developing?”

A pause. “Maybe. But no, seriously. We’re just going to kill this innocent creature in cold blood. It feels weird.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not innocent. It’s wrecked three caravans and killed five guards, and that’s a main road for scavengers she’s been hanging around.”

“So she’s not innocent, it’s not her fault this world has like, no food _ever_. She’s probably _starving_ —I can see her ribs!”

Another sigh. “It’s a monster, Dick.”

“Maybe we’re the monsters.”

“Of course we are.” Barbara said, with more assurance than Dick expected of a woman talking about her own species. “We’re _humans_.”

“Damn, girl,” Dick aimed through the scope again, lining it up with the Yao Guai’s head. Between the eyes, like Jason told him. “Getting all philosophical on me today.”

“You’re the one who brought up the ethics of killing a starving, but _still man-eating_ , bear creature.” Barbara retorted, her chair squeaking under her.

“Maybe we can continue discussing ethics over dinner tonight.” Dick grinned, waiting for the bear to stay still.

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

The shot rang out, echoing over the plains and into the neighboring town. A quick check, and the bear’s head was mush.

“God _dammit_ , Dick!” Barbara growled, shuffling again from her end, as if she’d fallen over. “Warn me next time!”

“RIP Yao Guai, October 6, 2287.” Dick said mournfully as he disassembled his rifle and stood, gazing down at the creature’s lifeless body. Bloodbugs were already beginning to arrive, circling the body while fighting away each other. “She was kinda gross, but probably a good bear.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Barbara deadpanned, and Dick could practically hear her rolling her eyes. He smiled, brining himself to a jog back towards the city. “Now get back here already so I can smack you.”

“Oh, snap. Who’s the monster now?”

“Shut up. You love it.”


	3. Healing (Tim/Kon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily prompts for Inktober 2016. Tags will be added as chapters are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim's a mess, Kon's a good boyfriend, and Clark and Bruce are worried dads.
> 
> Day 3: Healing.

Kon prided himself in his flying speed. He’d been working on it ever since he knew he could fly, and Clark showed him some ways he could fly even faster than he thought was safe (but only for emergencies).

This, in Kon’s case, was an emergency.

His phone shone too bright in his eyes for how dark it was outside. _1:04 AM,_ it read, plus a few texts from the person he had flown all the way from Kansas for.

_[Text: Tim] are you here yet_

_[Text: Tim] I left a note for bruce so don’t freak out, just come get me_

Kon bites his lip, shoving the phone in his pocket as he silently floats up to the familiar window, which was partially open in anticipation of his arrival. Pushing it open, Kon landed inside without a sound, glancing around the dark room for the one he was picking up.

Tim’s heartbeat was too fast for Kon’s liking, and Kon frowned as he walked to the bed, the bundle under the covers shaking, not just because it was freezing in this room.

Softly. “Tim?”

The bundle shifted, covers thrown off in a blur of navy cloth, and Kon swore Tim had must have had super speed as the smaller teen tackle hugged him. His body was warm, the wetness on his face and erratic heart beat had Kon hugging him back as tight as he could without breaking all his bones.

“Hey…” Kon said softly into Tim’s hair as the other started shaking again. “Still want to come over?”

“Please,” Tim’s voice shook as badly as his body did, Kon scooping him up without any hesitation.

The first half of the flight home was fairly silent, just the sound of the beating of their hearts, the wind rushing around them, and the occasional sniffle.

Just when the farm was coming into view, Kon leans down and kisses Tim’s head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A shrug. Kon touched down on the porch, unsure if he was relieved or nervous by the fact that the first floor lights were on this late. He set Tim down gently, supporting the other with one hand on his back, and one in Tim’s own hand.

Another sniffle, Tim’s gaze stuck on the floor. A quick squeeze of his hand had him looking up at Kon, Kon smiling softly.

Kon had already planned his tactic for making Tim feel better. Film Noir movies, cuddles on the couch, all the blankets in the house, and coffee for days. Practically foolproof.

That is, until they stepped inside and saw Clark, wide-awake, talking on the landline.

“Speak of the devil, they just walked in.” Clark said simply, smiling to them slightly. Kon’s stomach dropped, and Tim’s grip tightened in his hand. “… Yeah, no problem, Bruce. Okay. Good night.”

Clark hung up and turned to them. “To answer the question I know you’re thinking, he called to make sure you arrived safely.”

Tim, blinking through his tears and surprise, gaped as Clark approached them, eyes soft and concerned and _fatherly_.

“Can I get you anything, Tim? Tea, coffee?”

The teens looked at each other. Realizing they weren’t in trouble, Kon squeezed his hand and smiled.

“… W-Well, some coffee w-would be nice…”

Clark didn’t protest at caffeine this late at night, just smiled and headed off to the kitchen while Kon lead Tim to the living room. They surrounded themselves in the fluffiest comforters and softest pillows, put on _The Big Sleep_ and gratefully accepted Clark’s mugs of hot coffee. Thankfully, the hero didn’t pry; he kissed both of their heads good night, and moved upstairs.

“… Clark is cool.” Tim mumbled into his mug, the smallest hints of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, he is.” Kon smiled back as Tim leaned into his shoulder. “I think he and Bruce are letting us off easy because you’re upset.”

Tim made an annoyed face, and Kon knew he didn’t like being treated differently because of his problems. But, at the same time, Tim’s body stopped shaking, he _finally_ began to relax, and at some point he laughed during the movie, and Kon knew he was making progress, however small.


	4. Superhero (Jaime/Bart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart is super drunk, and Jaime can only sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daily prompts for Inktober 2016. Tags will be added as chapters are.
> 
> (Warnings for underage drinking and language.)
> 
> Super quick background: This one takes place during a college au I'm working on! Bart, Tim, Virgil, and Jaime share an apartment on campus. Tim and Bart share a room while Virgil and Jaime share a room.  
> Hopefully I'll get my au's posted at some point a h a
> 
> Day 4: Superhero

“You’re. You’re my _superhero_ , Jaime.”

So that sentence would totally have been the most romantic thing Bart had ever said to Jaime, except for the fact that Bart was so drunk he wasn’t even able to stand up by himself.

“My hero. My knight in shining armor,” Bart continued, barely managing to teeter into the apartment on his own with the way his legs were collapsing under him. Jaime darted from his place on the couch, momentarily putting aside his complete and utter shock to catch Bart before he face-planted into the tile. “And I’m a hot _fucking_ princess. Jaime. My hot fucking knight. My heerooo.”

Jaime’s face contorted. “Bart, are you… how much did you have to drink, _amigo_?”

“You shoulda come to that party, dude.” Bart slurred, letting his full weight go into Jaime’s arms as he squirmed around, trying to better face him. Jaime struggled briefly, turning the other so he held him under his back. “It was sss-so good. Cool. Good. Fun.”

“Fun because you got smashed?” Jaime frowned, sighing as the other just fell into a fit of giggles.

In a swift movement, Jaime lifted Bart up bridal style, Bart’s only comment being, “Wheeeee!” Jaime carried him to his room, thankful Tim was out tonight visiting his family. Sharing a room with Bart hadn’t been the easiest thing for the Wayne son to do, but Jaime thought the other accommodated Bart’s antics fairly well. Coming back home totally drunk was a little much, though, even for Bart.

Jaime kicked aside dirty track pants and socks, accidentally knocked over a surprisingly meticulously stacked bunch of psychology and sports magazines, and set Bart down on his bed.

“You are gonna have such a hangover tomorrow, _ese_.”

Finding the only responses he could get from Bart was giggles, Jaime rolled his eyes and took Bart’s shoes and socks off for him, ignored the sexy comment he got when he forced Bart to take off his shirt and put on a clean one, and pulled the comforter over the ginger.

Bart, now cocooned in warmth, calmed down a bit, his giggles fading, eyes closing. Jaime just shook his head, deciding to talk to him about this tomorrow, and made a mental note to look up recipes for hangovers.

“I meant it, though, dude,”

Jaime looked back from the door, seeing half his boyfriend’s face mushed into the pillow, the other half with a single half-lidded eye and probably some drool.

“What, Bart?”

“Th’ superhero thing. You. You _are_. My superhero.”

Jaime hid his blush by looking down, hoping the other was too drunk to notice. “I… _okay_ , thank you?”

“You, like, you _saved_ me.” Bart continued as his eyes closed completely, and Jaime had to step closer to hear his mumblings. “From. From myself, from the path I was headed down. You’re a fuckin’ _hero_.”

Jaime smiled a little, sitting at the edge of the bed. “I guess I know what you mean. Maybe that means you’re _my_ hero.”

_You saved me from myself, too._

Jaime leaned down and kissed Bart’s temple, and by the way the boy didn’t move at all, Jaime figured he was asleep, _finally_. He pushed up from the bed, clicked off the light, and shut the door softly.

He’d make sure Bart knew tomorrow, no matter how grumpy he was from his hangover, how thankful Jaime was for him. Then he’d reprimand him for drinking so much, then make him something for his hangover.


	5. Commander (Bruce/Clark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily prompts for Inktober 2016. Tags will be added as chapters are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's more family fluff than superbat fluff, but there is some there ;0 this is sort of a no-powers/domestic fluff au, where Bruce and Clark are married, and Damian is five.
> 
> Day 5: Commander

Damian observed the battle field, eyes thin, hands perched on his hips. He knew what this all meant for his army. The bodies lay motionless around, from his side and the enemy’s, but Damian could only focus on the one before him.

He pointed dramatically towards the leader of the enemy side, who stood at the end of the room, arms crossed and frown deep.

“Commander Damian,” Bruce said as he walked up from behind him, taking his place to his right. “What are your orders?”

“Attack.” Damian said simply, keeping his gaze on the enemy. “Finish him.”

Bruce purses his lips together, nodding solemnly. He approached the enemy, stepping over the lifeless teddy’s and dinosaur toys as he went, and Damian crossed his arms.

“We meet again, Bruce.” Clark hummed, almost smiling despite their unfortunate circumstances.

“Indeed.” Bruce replied, kicking the body of an enemy soldier out of their way, its plush body bouncing off of the dresser. “I think you know how this must end.”

“Enough talk! End him, soldier!” Damian shouted, unsheathing his foam sword, pointing it towards Clark. “When he is finished, victory will finally be ours!”

Bruce turned back to Clark, the two unsheathing their weapons. Clark must have given up, because with a few swipes of Bruce’s sword, Clark fell to the ground.

“With my dying breath… I… must say… I love you.” Clark whispered, arm shaking, reaching up towards Bruce who stood stoic above him. He took one final breath, his whole body twitching before he collapsed, dead on the floor.

Damian approached, standing beside Bruce while he poked Clark with his sword. “Good job, soldier.”

“Thank you, Commander Damian. But… I loved him.” Bruce sighed, dramatically grabbing his chest.

Damian scowled. “Father! You can’t _love_ on a battle field!”

“Why not?” Clark pouted, lifting his head to look at them, and Bruce chuckled.

“Because it’s _gross_.” Damian decided, crossing his arms.

“You’re five. Of course you think it’s gross.”

“Ageism!” Damian cried in disbelief, as his last soldier had betrayed him and joined the enemy. He wiggled his sword at them as Bruce helped Clark up, and Clark raised an eyebrow.

“Who taught him that word?” Clark whispered to Bruce as his husband sneaked a hand around his hip.

“ _Grayson_!” The five-year-old shouted, throwing aside his sword as he dashed from the bedroom. “Grayson, Father is being _unfair_!”

“I don’t even know anymore.” Bruce sighed, stealing a kiss from Clark. “Sorry I killed you.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Clark smiled. “He’s cute when he’s trying to command a toy army.”

“Should we go after him?”

A few more distant shouts, Dick and Jason joined in this time, something about how gross their dads were and the consequences of the two being on opposite sides of the battlefield.

“Nah. Commander Damian still has to come back and clean his room of carnage before dinner.”


	6. Finally Together (Bruce/Clark, Tim/Kon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily prompts for Inktober 2016. Tags will be added as chapters are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Kon are gone on a two month-long mission, and Bruce and Tim can't wait for them to get back.
> 
> Day 6: Finally Together

It didn’t take too long for people to notice Superman had been gone. Bruce was pretty sure Clark was in to his third week on mission when the media started to talk. But, it wasn’t really a secret, either—nor was it a problem. Not only did they have the rest of the Justice League, but the Teen Titans picked up the slack with the three heroes gone, working overtime to make sure nothing too drastic changed in the world’s crime levels over the coming weeks.

Superman, Superboy, and Green Lantern had been off on an interplanetary mission for the last two months, and though the Justice League received regular updates on their status (mostly to let Bruce know Clark was okay), it had still been two agonizing months all the same.

And, on top of that, it was agonizing for more than just Bruce.

Tim was okay for the first few weeks, mostly because the mission was only estimated to be two and a half weeks long. When they passed the four-week mark and still weren’t home, Tim started _fidgeting_. And after fidgeting came the insomnia, and the anxiety, and the excessive amounts of caffeine—even more than he usually intakes.

On top of that, Bruce could hardly spend time with his son, having to take up so much extra work as Batman in the League. Dick helped a ton in Gotham with Damian, and Tim with the Titans, but the excessive work alongside the stress of their loves away on such a long mission had both Bruce and Tim on edge more than ever.

Bruce thought of this as he looked at Tim—Red Robin, right now—through his Batman cowl, a smile blooming as he watched the Titan struggle to maintain his public persona. Tim was fidgeting in a whole new way, practically bouncing as they stood outside the Hall of Justice with the other League members, trying his hardest not to smile himself silly.

As Bruce looked up, he saw the reason, and now regretted his own public persona as he tried not to dash forward to meet the three descending to earth.

Superman lead ahead of Green Lantern and Superboy, smiling brightly as he landed a few steps in front of Bruce. It was pretty obvious Batman was who he wanted to see first, but, as always, a certain speedster couldn’t help himself.

“Supes!” Flash cried, jumping into a hug with Clark, the Kryptonian blinking through the sudden impact that wasn’t Bruce.

And, though a bit annoyed with it, Bruce couldn’t help but keep smiling at the display.

“H-Hey,” Superman finally said, breaking into a smile once more as he patted Flash’s back. “Miss me, much?”

“ _So_ much. But— _oh_!” Flash gasped as he sprinted over to Green Lantern, tackling him into an even more forceful hug, the other just laughing.

Superboy landed just beside Superman, though his attention was clearly elsewhere. He was grinning hard, already making his way to Red Robin, who was still kind of vibrating in excitement on the top of the steps.

“Red Robin.” Superboy greeted through a cheeky grin, though everyone could tell he was just as excited to see Tim again.

“Superboy.” Red Robin replied with poise, smiling back, and they calmly abandoned the Leaguers to go into the Hall, steps hastening as they made it through the doors.

Eh, Bruce would let them have that, this time. Especially since he wouldn’t dream of leaving this moment for anything.

“Welcome back, Superman.” Batman said, Diana smiling to them before trotting over to greet Green Lantern—i.e., giving them their space.

“Thanks, Batman. It’s good to be back—and it seems Superboy is happy as well.” Clark laughed, watching the two teens disappear somewhere in the Hall. “I suppose you’ll want a mission debrief?”

“You really think that’s what I want?” Bruce deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “Superman. You _just_ got back.”

Clark shifted, smile fading slightly. “Er... exactly? I thought—”

Bruce rolled his eyes. _Screw public personas._

Before Clark could finish, Bruce grabbed his collar and stepped close, pulling him down the few inches he had over him to meet their lips. Slow, soft, deliberate, Clark’s back to the others, Bruce’s to the Hall.

They broke as Barry whooped and Hal whistled. Bruce smirked, watching Clark’s cheeks turn vibrantly pink, the Kryptonian shifting on his feet again, no doubt shocked with the sudden, _very_ public affection

“I want you two to come over for dinner tonight. No reports or debriefings for the next few days.” Bruce ordered simply, turning on his heel. “I’m getting the kids.”

It didn’t take long for Clark to recover, Bruce not needing to look at the other to know he was _beaming_. “O—Okay! I’ll, ah, tell the others!”

Needless to say, Tim stopped fidgeting, they all were able to take a break from work, and Clark was too occupied with Bruce to mention a single detail from the mission for the rest of the night.


	7. Swim Suit (Tim/Kon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like most everything in Gotham, winters tended toward the extreme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More college au!
> 
> Day 7: Swim Suit

Like most everything in Gotham, winters tended toward the extreme. This years’ were especially brutal, with several inches of snow, record breaking temperatures, and power outages all over the city. When the cell phone towers went down, the University alone went into a riot-inducing panic. RA’s tried their best to settle the rabble, allowing students to use the few landlines they had to call family about being okay. Many complained about the power being out, not able to access wifi or their heaters not working, but fortunately, the University took the time to invest in back-up generators.

The only good thing about this weather was classes being cancelled. And, even then, Tim wasn’t entirely thrilled on that. He hated falling behind on anything, even if students were obviously not being penalized for the weather messing up their schedules, Tim was annoyed that it would screw up his professors' plans for homework and tests.

As Tim hurried through the snow, Maintenance was trying their best to clear it, bags of snacks from the Grocery Mart on campus bouncing in his hands, his mind couldn’t help wandering to the inevitable.

The guys would come over to their apartment, definitely. With any luck, that included Kon, although, his dorm _was_ a little further across campus, and the other might not want to brave the storm just to get to Tim—

Tim flushed pink as he stepped into the apartment building lobby, Kon standing _right there_ by the elevator.

“Tim!” Kon called with a smile, barely able to lift his arm to wave over the several layers of coats. Krypto was even there, with a little doggie vest that still proudly read Service Dog, although this time it had a cotton-lined hood, and the tiny doggie boots on his feet almost ended Tim right there.

“H-Hey,” Tim managed through a shiver. He squatted, leaving his bags by his sides to ruffle Krypto’s ears and kiss his freezing nose. “Hey buddy, how’s my favorite guy?”

“Oh, I’m fine, thanks. Kinda fucking _freezing_ —”

“I wasn’t talking to _you_.”

“Funny. Haven’t heard that one, like, ever. You’re so very clever.” Kon deadpanned, tugging Krypto back by his side. Tim chuckled, standing again. “You gonna let me in or what?”

They took the elevator despite Tim’s protests—“ _The power could go out and then we’d be stuck, Kon”_ to which Kon replied with a wiggle of his eyebrow, “ _I’m okay with that.”_ Fourth floor, five doors down on the right.

“Yoooo the party is here!”

Tim and Kon froze as they walked in, which would have been an appropriate term if their room didn’t feel like a _sauna_. Tim immediately peeled off his jacket, at a loss for words for what he was seeing.

Bart bounced up to them, wearing only his Bermuda swim trunks. In the background, each friend began to acknowledge their arrival, and Tim noticed a similar theme. Jaime’s swim trunks were deep blue, Cassie’s bikini was incredibly patriotic, Virgil wore an unbuttoned tee along with his trunks, Karen’s one-piece had the sides cut out.

Everyone lounged around, looking as comfortable as a summer day, eating _ice cream_ , of all things, in their _swim suits_ , in Tim’s apartment.

Tim would later describe this as the pinnacle of college life to his family.

“What the _hell_ , guys.” Kon managed, instinctively peeling off Krypto’s layers and releasing him into the fray, the mutt bounding over to the closest person with ice cream. “It’s like, a million degrees in here.”

“Only 84!” Bart protested, dragging in his stunned roommate. “It’s the highest we could get without getting in trouble.”

“ _84_? How can this place be at 84 and the RA’s _not know_?” Tim sputtered, Bart nodding sagely as he helped Tim from his layers of jackets and socks.

“It’s fine, man.” Jaime called from the couch. “No one cares. And this place has a backup generator, so we’re good if the power goes out.”

“This is wasting _so much_ energy.” Tim grumbles. Bart unceremoniously tossed Tim’s clothes aside, leaving him in just jeans and a t-shirt.

“ _Chill_ , man.” Bart managed before snorting at his own joke (Jaime immediately rolled his eyes). “It's a pool party, sans pool! Go get changed, then have some ice cream-- Cassie _made_ it, how dope is that?”

“Pretty dope,” Kon chuckled, taking off his own few jackets. “Too bad I left my speedo at my place.”

As Tim attempted to hide his blush by running to his room, Cassie and Karen toppled over each other laughing, and Kon protested that he looked _really good_ in it, really, his eyes following Tim as the other retreated.

Stupid Kon and his stupid speedo keeping Tim up that night.


End file.
